


always said I'd be famous (guess that I lied)

by The_Resurrection_3D



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Polyamory, Reading Aloud, if you're tom kin and have a humiliation kink read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Resurrection_3D/pseuds/The_Resurrection_3D
Summary: Edd pulls Tom away and into his lap, pushing Tom's head down to his shoulder. Sssh, it's okay baby, he soothes, petting Tom's hair; I have a dick big enough for all of us.Matt snorts, hides his grin behind his hand. Tord inspects his nails. Before Tom can chip in (holding onto him tight enough so he can't move his arm back for a good gut punch), Edd snaps at Matt, Just read the damn story.





	always said I'd be famous (guess that I lied)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I got some very exciting news today about potentially getting the institutional endorsement I need for some highly prestigious scholarships...and then I opened up Discord to see my TomTord roommate had sent me the infamous excerpt from _Rough and Riding_ by Sandra Hill. Things spiraled from there. I don't actually have them read to the really good stuff in this part, but it's 2 am and it seemed like this was a satisfying enough stopping point. Funnily enough, I think this is the closest to pre-legacy Matt I've ever gotten. 
> 
> You can listen to a dramatic reading [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c36jCk-Cmvs) Other footnotes are at the end.

_Her long --_ Matt cuts himself off with a sigh, looking away from his phone to briefly massage his fingertips into his eyelids.

You recognize it? Edd asks with a smile.

Yes -- you're the one who showed me the dramatic reading, you idiot. Matt's voice breaks with laughter. Why don't we just listen to that?

Because it's better when you do it.

That's true, Tord chimes, miming a hand over his crotch before knocking his shoulder into Tom's. Though not for you - better no one's there to ask if it's in yet, right?

Tom retaliates with pillows and death threats.

Edd pulls Tom away and into his lap, pushing Tom's head down against his shoulder. Sssh, it's okay baby, he soothes, petting Tom's hair; I have a dick big enough for all of us.

Matt snorts, hides his grin behind his hand. Tord inspects his nails. Before Tom can chip in (holding onto him tight enough so he can't move his arm back for a good gut punch), Edd snaps at Matt, Just read the damn story.

Matt looks down at his audience -- his boyfriends in their T-shirts and boxers and dinosaur onesie, their weight creating valleys in the hills of pillows and blankets strewn about the floor. The TV a low buzz in the background, a horror movie too competent for their purposes but not good enough to be worth watching.

He straightens up in Tom's chair, cracks his neck, closes his eyes.

Someone throws a piece of popcorn at him.

I need to get into my acting space! Matt snaps back.

More popcorn; Get on with it, Skipper Dan.

Piss off. But he eats the pieces in his lap and, freezing his laughter inside him, begins to read: _Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became..._

* * *

 _As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm_. Matt raises his voice over their laughter, reaching for the lowest cords in his throat. _“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”_

Tord and Matt share a glance; Matt's mimicry of his accent hasn't changed since the playground.

Tord has pulled Tom away from Edd only to dip him back in his arms, mouthing along to the words. Tom has draped his arm over his forehead, tipped back so Tord can ghost his lips over the veins in Tom's neck -- before rapidly flicking his tongue by Tom's ear like a lizard not allowed within five hundred meters of a school.

Tom shoves his head away.

Matt swoons in the chair, kicks up his feet, holding onto his phone like a lovesick Victorian woman reading her latest letter. _Hilda had been waiting to hear these words,_ he continues, voice almost breathless with anticipation. _Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too._

Edd states blandly that ‘snooch’ sounds like a Dr. Seuss character.

Do you want me to read this or not? Matt asks, before admitting that Edd is correct.

You know I once saw a porno where the guy was dressed as the Cat in the Hat and he called his balls Thing 1 and Thing 2, Tord says.

Kill yourself, Tom replies.

On the topic of names, Matt interjects, taking a sip of his water; I've been waiting for Tord to say that Torolf is actually a pretty common Norwegian name, or something.

I don't know about _common..._

More or less than Knut Hamsun? Edd asks.

\-- _Wha'_ _?_ from Tom, catching the overflow of his vodka in his hand.

Matt rolls his eyes; an audience of toddlers would be more appreciative. He won't lie; if it were yesterday, Edd's comment about him method-acting as a washout would have cut deep. Would've, if he hadn't come home to them waiting solely for him, so they could all once again attempt to destroy this fault-line toothpick house called polyamory with a game of UNO.

Somehow they're already throwing popcorn at each other again; soon they'll be throwing fists; an audience of sugar-high toddlers in mouse ears would certainly be a better audience

(and a worse, in all the ways that mattered).

* * *

_"Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.” At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection._

Hey, hey, hey! Edd snaps as Tord grabs at Tom's crotch. You're touching my centimeter.

I'm pretty sure it's _my_ centimeter, Tord shoots back.

I'm fairly certain you're _both_ grabbing _my_ centimeter, Matt snaps, trying to pry Tord's hand away with his foot.

Ladies, ladies, Tom chides; We have this system in place for a reason.

Why do I get the weird middle one? Matt asks, raising his voice an octave. Why does Edd get the first centimeter - you give him everything!

It was first come--

Matt raises a finger. I have an issue with that --

_It was first come, first served._

But how can Edd be the first to come when you can't make any of us cum?

Tom puts his face in his hands, dark laughter as the other two snigger and gawk. Why is everyone ganging up on me today?

While we're fighting about this, Tord asks, raising his hand. Can I switch with someone? Because I don't like having the bottom centimeter.

Why? Edd asks, face still twisted up in a shit-eating grin.

Because it has the word 'bottom' in it and that's gay.

Chuckling, Matt takes another sip of his water, wondering why he'd gone only so far as to get out his favorite wine glass -- the one custom-made to resemble his gorgeous visage. He looks at his wonderful, beautifully chiseled face, turning it over in his hand as he muses, more to himself, We haven't even gotten to the actual sex yet.

"Sex," Edd says, forming the sarcasm with his fingers.

I feel like it's fair to say none of us really know what sex is, goes Tord.

What Matt wants to say is _Well, we could be learning from the master, if you idiots could pay attention,_ but what comes out is, I'm fucking all of your brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> Tom quickly counts up eight fingers before looking up in seemingly genuine confusion. At once?
> 
> \---------------
> 
> "Skipper Dan" (and the title) are references to Weird Al's song of the same name; it's about an actor who has all the best credentials ending up a miserable tour-guide at Disneyland. You can listen to that song [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0cCRRFi1aA)
> 
> Torolf seems to be a real Norweigan name, as is Knut Hamsun, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1920.


End file.
